


Properly civilized

by fannishliss



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Episode: s01e11 Boom Town, Multi, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-19
Updated: 2013-03-19
Packaged: 2017-12-05 22:09:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/728450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fannishliss/pseuds/fannishliss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rose catches a cold, and Jack takes care of her, which leads the Doctor to realize a few things.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Properly civilized

**title: Properly civilized**  
author: [](http://fannishliss.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://fannishliss.livejournal.com/)**fannishliss**  
pairing: Nine/Rose/Jack  
rating: PG  
spoilers — Boom Town  
warnings: none  
5,600 words

summary: Rose catches a cold, and Jack takes care of her, which leads the Doctor to realize a few things.

 

For this story, I was partly inspired by storyboarding together several prompt photos from **[ttu challenge 005](http://then-theres-us.livejournal.com/345408.html)** — they come at the end of this piece.  Once upon a time, [](http://yumimum.livejournal.com/profile)[**yumimum**](http://yumimum.livejournal.com/) prompted: "How about Rose is sick and feeling sorry for herself, and the Doctor gets to live up to his name. Nice and fluffy." Also, the [**who_contest**](http://who-contest.livejournal.com) wanted stories about rivals.  In this story there are three people, each of whom regards one of the others as a rival, until it all gets settled. A bit of pampering sick Rose, a bit of interpersonal conflict, OT3, and a portrait of Nine (for [**who@50**](http://who-at-50.livejournal.com/)) that leaves open the possibility for happy endings.  And in celebration of the second anniversary of **Bad_wolf_rising** — such a wonderful community — you all are great!

 

######

 "Not so fast," Jack said, laying a hand on the Doctor's arm, just as he was about to dematerialize.

"What are you on about?" the Doctor retorted with a frown.

"She needs rest," Jack said under his breath, giving a significant look at Rose, who had collapsed onto the jumpseat and was staring blearily in the direction of the doors.

"She can rest, I'm not stopping her," the Doctor said. "I just want to get this egg back to its proper home."

"No," Jack said, as gently as he could manage.

The Doctor's eyes widened in surprise. "No?"  he repeated.

"Doctor, you don't know what might happen when we get there.  When has anything ever gone smoothly —especially simple diplomatic missions?" Jack made dramatic quote marks in the air.

"You do have a point," the Doctor said, pinching his nose. He glanced over at Rose, and she was clearly dead on her feet.  He nodded at Jack.

"I'm putting this egg in lockdown," the Doctor said.

"You have a lockdown?" Jack asked, interested.

"No, but the Tardis has cupboards, and some of them lock, and that's the best I can do," the Doctor answered.

As the Doctor strode out of the console room, he heard Jack behind him, gently coaxing Rose to her feet and leading her down the corridor toward the sleeping quarters.  It would be a long night for the Doctor while the humans got their rest after all the excitement in Cardiff.  At least that gave him plenty of time to reinforce the console panel that had opened under the stresses of the rift, turning the Slitheen back into an egg.  He didn't want anything like that happening to either of his companions — though, come to think of it, Rose had been standing directly beside Blon, and her exposure to the wild vortex energy had left her seemingly unscathed.  He should take her to the infirmary in the morning and do a scan, just to make sure there would be no lingering ill effects.

The Tardis was peaceful at night.  There was some subtle difference, the Doctor mused, when there were humans sleeping on board, to when he was traveling alone. The silence of his desolated mind was hateful; at least the Tardis hummed and sang to him through the stillness — but sometimes he had the distinct impression that she was singing to Jack and Rose as well with some other part of her voice.  It was reassuring, not to be alone, to listen as his ship soothed his companions in their sleep, watching over them while her wakeful Time Lord tended her.

The night passed quickly − what passed for night on the Tardis as she monitored her travelers and slowly brought up the lights as their bodies neared awakening.  She chimed softly to the Doctor, letting him know that Jack was awake.  He'd made good progress on the console, so he put away his tools and headed for the galley.  He had poured boiling water for a pot of tea and was letting it steep when Jack came in.

"Is Rose awake yet?" Jack asked.

The Doctor shook his head as Jack went nosing through the galley cupboards.  He liked to see what was available before he committed to a particular breakfast.  The Tardis might have a fully cooked English breakfast hidden in one of the galley cupboards, or just box after box of dry muesli — depending on her moods.  This morning, Jack found an enormous, American style sticky bun, choked with walnuts and raisins and dripping with glaze.  It was still hot from the oven.  The Doctor was amazed.  The Tardis had never pampered him like she pampered Rose and Jack.  Nutrition bars and the occasional toast had been standard fare for centuries, until now.

Jack settled down at the table with his own cup of tea, the sticky bun, and several tiny oranges. The Doctor considered, crossed his fingers, and opened the cupboard where there had been bananas in recent memory.  Lo and behold, he found not just a banana, but a fully prepared smoothie, the Doctor's absolute favorite— the Tardis must really have appreciated his efforts to reinforce the console hatch.

"You repaired the hatch?" Jack asked.

The Doctor nodded, watching Jack closely.  He knew Jack was slightly psychic — but it was difficult to tell the difference between Jack's skills at close observation, his keen intuition, and his genuine psychic empathy.  It really made no difference: Jack was almost always right.

"She's happy," Jack said, blinking slowly.  That was his tell, slight as it was, that he was tuning in to his sixth sense.

"Yeah," the Doctor said.  It was true: her power cells were full, they'd located a significant, safe fuel source in the Cardiff rift, and she had helped the Doctor bring justice to a criminal.  She didn't relate these things to the Doctor in words — she couldn't — but she was capable of conveying her emotions about specific things,  and Jack was right. The Tardis was happy.

"You're very perceptive," the Doctor said to Jack.

Jack's bright, wary eyes darted to the Doctor, defensive, looking for a hidden attack in the apparent praise.  Jack's reaction only lasted half a second, but it was enough to make the Doctor wonder who had made Jack that way — always second guessing himself, hungry for approbation.  He was strong, smart, and confident, Jack was, but starved for affection, the Doctor thought.  It would be easy to take advantage of a man like Jack, a man so eager to prove himself worthy.

"And you're good for Rose," the Doctor added, just to see Jack blush.

"What do you mean?" Jack asked.  The high color made him even more handsome.

The Doctor stared.  He liked that Jack didn't back down and didn't look away.  It was a military response, but one that he respected.

"I don't know if you've noticed," the Doctor said, "but I'm a dangerous man."

Jack returned his stare steadily, so the Doctor went on.

"I mean, I'm dangerous to be around.  Things happen, I get involved.  Rose likes to run toward danger.  I can't always be in more than one place at the same time.  You — you have your eye out, watching out for her, just like I do.  It's good, both of us looking out for her, trying to keep her safe."

Jack nodded, swallowed, then looked up again. "You don't see me, um, as a rival, any more?"

"You're good," the Doctor said haughtily, "but I'm in a class by myself." He took a big swallow of his smoothie and tried not to wince at the icy liquid.

Jack looked down, humble, but a little bit stubborn.  He seemed to bite his tongue.

"What are you thinking, Jack?" the Doctor asked.

Jack finally looked up. "A lot of things," he said.

"Try me," the Doctor prompted.

"I'm thinking, how I'd do just about anything to keep Rose safe — but you knew that."

The Doctor nodded.

"And I'm thinking, I'd do just about anything you asked me to do.  You know?"

The Doctor nodded again, examining his straw very closely.

"What would you ask me to do, Doctor?" Jack asked.

The Doctor knew that if he looked up, Jack's eyes would be fixed on his, with all his passion and dedication shining out of him like a beacon.  He could see the truth of Jack, resonating out all around him into time.  Jack's devotion was real, and the only thing left was for the Doctor to make his move.

The Tardis chimed in the Doctor's head. "Rose is awake," he said, standing.  "We should dress nicely, for diplomacy," he said.

"Whatever you say, Doc," he smiled, with only the slightest sigh.

Rose soon drifted in, swaddled in a thick terrycloth bathrobe and enormous slippers.  She went straight for the tea without even opening her eyes more than was strictly necessary.  She was sniffling and a little flushed — almost certainly coming down with something. The Doctor hoped it was no more than a cold.

The Doctor could see why Jack had insisted on delaying the trip to Raxacoricofallapatorius.  He leaned against the counter, tea in hand, contemplating his next move: whether to try the diplomatic mission on his own, take Jack along, or put it off until Rose was feeling more herself again.  While the Doctor thought, Jack stood, closed his eyes, and blindly reached for a cupboard. When he opened it, there was a big bowl of porridge on a tray with cream and sugar,  and another bowl full of fresh blackberries, plump and ripe.  Jack chivalrously placed the tray in Rose's place and seated her with a bow.

"My lady," he said, smiling his handsome smile.

"Oooh, Jack!  Just like summers at Gran's when I was little!" Rose smiled.  She dusted the oatmeal lightly with sugar, heaped on the blackberries and stirred them in with a dollop of cream.  Really, it made even the Doctor's mouth water to see how delicious the healthy breakfast looked.  With the Tardis and Jack working in tandem, Rose was easily the most pampered person he'd ever had aboard.  He hadn't even bothered to explain to Rose the full potential of the Tardis's galley (to be honest, he'd never made much use of it, especially after Leela's shocking habit of tearing into barely seared game).  Rose had happened on the galley on her first full day aboard — meaning, the Tardis had led her there and quickly regaled her with delightful meals — and Rose made the Doctor sit with her while she ate, at least sometimes.  Rose's insistence on a proper sit-down was something of an obsession with her, and a minor vexation for the Doctor, who rarely ate more than a few biscuits — but he'd come to appreciate the ritual.

Now, Rose was beaming at Jack, even though her smile was not at full wattage, and the Doctor cursed himself for missing the opportunity to win that smile for himself.

The Doctor hadn't really been jealous of Jack, even at first; it was more that he recognized a rival when he saw one, and he didn't approve of a rascal like Jack making moves on Rose before he'd proven his real worth.  Now, in theory, he ought to be fine with it.  Hadn't he just told Jack he liked it when the lad took care of Rose?  But did he have to be so good at it?

Then Jack lifted his hand and gently felt Rose's forehead.  "Sweetheart, you're running a fever.  Hadn't you better stay in bed today?"

The Doctor should have already suggested that.  He'd been waiting for Rose to finish with the meal she was obviously savoring.

Rose's eyes darted to the Doctor with concern.  "But we have a mission," she said, frowning.

"It'll keep, won't it," the Doctor said, nodding firmly.

"I'm sorry," Rose said, "I don't know where I could have picked it up."

"Running around with Ricky, likely," the Doctor snarked.

Rose's face fall into sadness, and the Doctor immediately regretted his hasty words. Jack's eyes flashed disapproval.

"No," the Doctor said, backpedalling, "no, the common cold has an incubation period of eight to ten days, so..."

Jack glared at him again, so he veered left.

"Anyway, you should come to the infirmary.  I'll have you set right in no time," he said, recovering.

"Yeah?"  Rose looked up, hopeful.  "I hate catching a cold."

"Better than zinc, me," said the Doctor.

Rose finished as much of the oatmeal as she wanted, and Jack put the tray back in the cupboard for the Tardis to work her magic.  It was strange to contemplate his ancient and complex machine, like the old Gallifreyans with their time scoop, only a bit more benevolent — whisking blackberries off the vine at the height of their ripeness, nicking a serving of freshly cooked oatmeal from a five-star Edinburgh hotel, siphoning cream out of a tank in Devon — just to take care of this one girl.  And he thought he was clever, building a robot dog.  
Wearily Rose stood, and wrapped her arms around herself.  The Doctor hated to see her sick, and it made him feel awkward. He itched to bustle her to the infirmary, bounced with impatience to make her better.   Jack just wrapped his arm around her waist and walked with her, easy as pie, slowing his step to match her listless pace.  The Doctor followed anxiously behind.

Finally they reached the infirmary, where Jack gave Rose a hand up onto the examining table, helped her lie back, fluffed her pillow and covered her with extra blankets.  Jack closed his eyes, and the Doctor felt the Tardis adjusting the temperature of the room upward by several degrees.

He gritted his teeth and smiled at Jack in acknowledgment. His contribution was to run the diagnostic and eradicate the virus - the work of a few seconds.  The Doctor loved his sonic (it was really so much more, but why let the cat out of the bag), and the Tardis's medbays were hundreds of times more powerful and efficient.

"Do I have to stay in here?" Rose asked.

"Of course not," Jack said.  "Like I said, a day in bed for you."

"That sounds great," Rose said gratefully, as a gentle humming filled the air around the medbay.

"The virus is gone — now your body just needs a little time to recover," the Doctor said.  "Sleep and hydration."

"Yes, mum!" Rose said, but the Doctor had earned a grin, so he didn't mind the comparison.

Jack again helped her sit up.  Was this common cold really so debilitating that a strong woman like Rose was brought so low so quickly?

But the Doctor could see how much Jack was enjoying helping Rose, murmuring to her and coddling her.  Why couldn't he be like that? But there was no use in wishing for a tiger to change its stripes.  The Doctor had never coddled Rose and he never would.

It took Jack a little while to get Rose settled in her room with everything necessary.  The Doctor imagined Jack bustling about, fetching Rose cool juices, adjusting the temperature of the room, piling on just as many blankets as felt best to Rose, and he heard Jack order the Tardis to supply Rose with soothing music, something light to watch on telly, or a good book, whichever she felt like, and the echo of the Tardis's agreement.

Shortly thereafter, Jack reappeared in the console room, ready to hand the Doctor whichever spanner or soldering tool he needed next.  The whole place was in a bit of disarray.  It was no time to tear anything apart — but a good opportunity for him and Jack to work together to finish up several projects, especially laying conduits for the exposed optical cables.  It was really wonderfully relaxing to work with Jack, who had a good head for mechanics and seemed to anticipate his every need, ready with a tool almost before he'd asked for it. Plus, Jack was so attuned to the Tardis, communicating with her more readily than almost any other companion the Doctor had known. Even Romana had been brusque with his old girl, and the two had never gotten on properly the way Jack did, and so quickly.

Several hours passed in harmony, the two of them getting a lot of work done.  They had just about finished a job under the console and were lying side by side.

"Would you like to go check on Rose?" Jack said.

The Doctor rolled up onto one elbow to stare at Jack.  He knew he could be intimidating in this face, but he kept his gaze hard and challenging.

"What?" Jack said, meeting the Doctor's stare without flinching.

Jack was really something — so strong, so brave, so giving.  How long would he let Jack go on like this, caught between the Doctor and Rose, growing closer and closer to them both, dearer and dearer to them? Was it something the Doctor should fear, or something to rejoice about?

He made up his mind, letting his features clear.  He watched in amazement as Jack's smile grew to match his own, so bright and sunny for a man with so much mystery and trouble in his past.

"You, Jack, are a gem without price, and a pearl beyond compare," the Doctor said, and he leaned in and lightly placed a kiss on Jack's lips.

"Oh!" Jack said in surprise.  His hands were full of spanners, but his lips were soft and warm under the Doctor's.

"Oh!" Rose said, and there was a crash as Rose dropped the tray she was carrying, and the teapot broke and the tea ran down into the grating, sending up sparks.

Time stood still, as the Doctor saw his happiness, his entire future, hinging on the moment. Everything might depend on what he did next.

"Rose!" the Doctor said, ever a Time Lord, but never the master of timing. She was already gone.

"Jack, what do I do?" he cried, in panic.  He'd taken a chance, and now he'd hurt Rose, and that was the last thing he'd ever meant to do.  Stupid, stupid!

Jack heaved a sigh, wiped his mouth absently with the back of his hand, and sat up.  "First, we've got to stop that tea from short circuiting the Tardis and crashing us somewhere."

The Tardis was sending out little chirps of alarm, like a lady surprised by a marauding rodent, and she was urging them to clean up the spill as soon as possible.  They really did need to get all this exposed wiring under control in the console room.  The Tardis loved her coral, but right now she was flashing images of her old self at the Doctor with something like longing, when her inner workings had been hidden behind sleek white panels and classy gold roundels, and she had liked it that way.

The Doctor levered himself to his feet, circled the console, opened the emergency protocols, and ordered up a batch of emergency drying fluff.  It arrived in the south/southwest dumbwaiter, where he seized it, tore open the bag, and dumped the fluff into the spilled tea.  Why the Tardis didn't have a fleet of cleaning robots to do this kind of thing for herself, he couldn't understand. Outside her galley cupboards and dumbwaiters, it was a complete shutdown and reboot with her or nothing.

"Stop fussing at her, it hurts her feelings," Jack said.  "She didn't design her own parameters.  If you want her to have cleanerbots, you'll have to build them yourself."

The Doctor grunted his assent, but turned his attention to vacuuming out the drying fluff.  The Tardis sighed in relief.  He sent her a little apology, which she gracefully accepted.

"Now," Jack said, "we go find Rose and get this sorted."

"It's a good plan," the Doctor said. He really did appreciate Jack's command capabilities. "But how sorted?"

"How —?  I guess that's up to you," Jack said softly.

"Not just me — you as well," the Doctor said.  He wondered what his face looked like at that moment.  Daft old face, sometimes showing every trace emotion that hurricaned through him, sometimes blank as slate.

"I - I - I just want," Jack stammered, and he made a fist as he tried to marshall his emotions.  He thrust his shoulders back and looked the Doctor in the eye.  "I love you, Doctor — you and Rose both.  I want to, to, to have that — but only if it works, with you, and with her, and wow, this is so much easier in the fifty-first century between properly civilized lovers," he said, wiping his hand across his face wearily.

"You don't think I'm properly civilized?" the Doctor said, a little high-pitched, in self-defense.

Jack just pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes, gesturing at the abandoned tray and shattered pottery, still stuck here and there with traces of drying fluff.

"How is that my fault?" the Doctor, shamefully, whined.

"If you don't see how surprise kissing one of us before telling both of us how you feel, while one of us is supposed to be sick in bed, isn't civilized, then I can't explain it to you," Jack delineated.

"Mmm," the Doctor acknowledged. "Help me fix it," he said, holding out his hand.

"Okay," Jack said, accepting.

It took them the rest of the day just to find her — not in her room, not in the galley, not in the library, not at the pool.  The Tardis relayed Rose's flurry of shifting emotions as she went through them — shock, grief, anger, rage, betrayal, aloofness, irritation, revenge, self-doubt — Rose ran the gamut.  Finally it was toward tea-time she ran out of steam and the Tardis let them catch up to her.

They found her in the orangerie, curled up in a large wicker chair lined with soft cushions.  The sweet smell of orange blossoms filled the sunlit room, sparkling through the windows onto the flower garden beyond, and there was birdsong.  Had the Tardis brought in live birds?

They'd remembered to drop their linked hands at least, but still she glared at them.  Her clean face, free of makeup, was tearstained, and the Doctor felt like a very bad dog.  He approached with his imaginary tail between his legs and his head very much down.

"Jack says I should explain," he started, which was wrong, because it enraged her again.

"Jack says!  Jack says!" she shouted, not making much sense.

Meanwhile, Jack, ever the wiser, had slunk in while the Doctor was distracting her, and knelt, his head bowed, at her feet.  Actually knelt!  Was he supposed to do that?

Jack was the picture of contrition.  "Rose, we beg your forgiveness, and humbly apologize for hurting you."

Did they teach this stuff at school in the fifty-first? Come to think of it, that had been an extremely civilized era in most parts of the human empire, so maybe they did.

The Doctor cautiously approached and began to bend his knees.

"Don't you dare, you prat!" Rose spat.

"Ah!" the Doctor scoffed, brought up short by the injustice. He stood back, feeling off-balance.

Jack intervened again. "The Doctor is at fault here, and so am I, for not speaking to you as honestly as we should."

"I should think so," Rose said, looking off to the side, tearing forming again in her eyes.

"Rose, don't cry," the Doctor said helplessly.

"I'll cry if I want!" Rose shouted.

"I know you're angry, sweetheart," Jack said, "and you were meant to be resting today..."

"So you two could get it on under the console!" Rose said furiously, turning the brunt on Jack for the first time.

"Is that what you saw?" Jack asked, very, very softly.

"No," Rose hesitantly admitted, tears falling from her eyes.

"Do you think we planned to betray you behind your back?" Jack asked, a little more forcefully. He handed her a clean linen handkerchief. Where had he even got that?

"No," Rose whispered, blotting at her face.

"We're so sorry, love," Jack said.  "We didn't mean to hurt you.  The Doctor acted without thinking."

The Doctor frowned, but nodded. He wisely kept his mouth shut and let Jack work it out.

"But the two of you — together — I thought," Rose said, and her voice broke, and she was crying.

"No, no, dearheart, it doesn't have to be like that," Jack said.  The chair Rose was nestled into was really only built for one, but somehow Jack insinuated himself into it and under Rose so that she was partially sitting on his lap.  Behind her back, as he loosely embraced her, Jack gestured violently at the Doctor to come closer, but there was no way he would fit with them on that chair. To be perfectly honest with himself, the Doctor was afraid to touch Rose.  He knew very well how his emotions ran high around Rose, all the more so when they were touching or even just in close proximity, as his personal telepathy warred with his self-control, yearning to reach out to Rose, to link into her feelings and thoughts — even though he knew she didn't like that idea.   Didn't she realize how psychic Jack was —or maybe she didn't care?

The Doctor grabbed another chair and brought it close and sat down.

"The Doctor has a lot he needs to say," Jack said.  "Do you feel comfortable listening here?"

"Shouldn't he get it over with?" Rose snapped. The Doctor was feeling quite ill-treated, considering Rose had seemed to forgive Jack almost instantly.

"It might take a while," Jack suggested. "Aren't you hungry? Wouldn't you like to wash your face and have some more juice?  Or maybe some chicken soup?"

The Doctor was astonished at how easily Jack managed Rose.  He seemed to reach into her head and find all the things that would bring her the most comfort.  While he didn't really want to let her go, after they'd searched for her all day, he could see that Jack had the right idea.

"Yeah," Rose said, and Jack helped her stand.  How did he even do that, from basically underneath her? The man was some kind of magician.

The Doctor held out his hand and Rose took it. Instantly, their connection flared to life — Rose feeling hot and hurt, the Doctor feeling sorry and eager to make it up.  He wanted nothing more than the best for Rose, happiness, health, fun, adventure — love— he wanted it all, he realized, and he needed to say it out loud.

Rose looked down at their hands with a frown, as if she could feel his confusion, and maybe she could.

But Jack stood up, and gently led her away, murmuring about a late lunch and some tea and a nice flannel for her face.

The Doctor heaved a sigh and went to fret while Jack helped Rose regain her composure.

The Tardis, after hiding Rose from them all afternoon, was now being perfectly helpful, and led the Doctor with a sweet strain of music to the library, where he found Rose and Jack on the comfy sofa where the three of them often sat to watch movies together. Jack indicated that he should sit on the other side, putting Rose in the middle, so he did.

"Okay, I'm ready to listen," Rose said, clearly reciting a line Jack had fed her.

"Rose I love you," the Doctor blurted, feeling himself go pale and cold even as he said it.

"Then what were you doing kissing Jack?" she asked, glaring.  His painful admission hadn't made much of an impression, he thought.

"Jack —his lips — he's very good with a spanner," the Doctor said, and Jack burst out laughing, falling back on to the sofa with his hands over his face.

"What?" Rose demanded, but Jack just kept laughing, until the Doctor and Rose, as usual, couldn't help but join in.

Finally they were all laughed out, and they felt so much better.

"Doctor," Jack prompted, smiling.

"Maybe if you used a spanner, Jack," Rose taunted, biting her tongue, and they were off again.

The Doctor loved laughing with them. The three of them made so much sense together.  He just had to say it out loud.

"The three of us — together — don't you think? It's lovely," he said, helplessly.

"I'm not sure how that sounded to you in Gallifreyan, but in English, there were quite a few verbs missing," Rose said.

"Anglo-Saxon ones I hope," Jack said, naughtily.

"Hush," Rose said, but with a blush and a wide smile.

"Yes," the Doctor said.

"What?" Rose said, suddenly serious again.

Jack gave him the eye and glanced meaningfully down at the floor.  This time, when the Doctor knelt, Rose didn't shout at him. He reached for her hands, and when she gave them, he felt with desperation how his longing for her was fed by the feeling of her hands in his.

"That is," the Doctor said, "if I say yes, and Jack says yes, will you — also — say yes as well?"

"Yes," Jack said quickly, "just so that's clear.  For my part, I say yes."

"But what's the question?" Rose said, breathlessly.

"Everything," the Doctor said, just as breathless despite superior Time Lord physiology.

"Yes to everything?" Rose said, looking at the Doctor, looking at Jack, watching how both of them waited so hopefully for her reply.

They waited for one breath more.

"Yes!" she shouted, and the Doctor just stared, hardly daring to believe his good fortune, when Jack grabbed her from behind and began to whisper in her ear.

Then Jack turned those molten blue eyes onto him and said, "Don't you want to kiss her?"

The Doctor very much did.  He fell toward then, taking Rose into his arms — not for the first time, but for the very first time with this new understanding opening the psychic space between them.  Love poured out of Rose like golden fire, and the Doctor felt like he was drinking it in, Rose's lips opening eagerly to his as he pulled her close, her hands warm against his skin underneath his jumper, and Jack still behind her, murmuring encouragement, lifting his timid fingers to their temples.

The Doctor's psychic defenses crumbled one by one, as Rose melted in his arms and Jack took charge. He eased them back onto the sofa — the Doctor wedged against the back, Rose with her back to him, and Jack free to move, free to kiss and to touch and to take them apart.  Part of him — the part that had damned him to celibacy for hundreds of years after Jamie and Zoe, so shamed by the Time Lords' draconian punishment — was aghast at what he was allowing Jack to lead him and Rose toward.  But the more he silenced that tetchy little voice, the more filled with joy the whole of him became.  He threw open the doors to his mind and to his soul, knowing he was safe, trusting in their love — and was swathed in bliss as they met him in joyful celebration.  Jack undressed them so gradually it was almost a surprise when they were all skin to skin, and for a long time then, language vanished, washed away by the communion of bodies and souls in blissful union.

###  
  
The trip to Raxacoricofallapatorius was a huge success.  They all dressed up very nicely, even the Doctor.  Rose did her hair in a fetching yet sophisticated manner, and wore shoes inappropriate for running, and they met with the Raxas government officials in charge of justice.  They argued for giving the egg a second chance to be raised in a better family than the Slitheen.  Apparently their new dynamic as a triad helped to sway the Chief Justice, who hinted that all the best families boasted stable triads.  The government treated them as honored guests, and invited them to stay for a while in a beautiful clifftop house reserved for visiting dignitaries.  Long walks on the beach, days in museums, evenings in fancy concert halls — Rose was in heaven, Jack enjoyed playing the role of gentleman to the hilt, and even the Doctor let his hyperactive mind just enjoy the honeymoon.

 

  
They took a little field trip to the old Slitheen estate.  The Slitheen were in fact under the threat of death if they ever returned, convicted of just about every crime imaginable — but the Raxacoricofallapatorians weren't interested in hunting them down.  Instead they used the seized estate holdings as an object lesson.  The grounds were bare and fallow.  The buildings had fallen into decay.  Jack led Rose through a windswept house; they stood gazing in silence at a bereft screen porch, a ragged window hung with tattered curtains.  The Doctor knew what it was like, growing up on an estate where rules were harsh and love was a foreign concept, where pride had gone before a fall.  The emptiness at the heart of the Slitheen family was writ large in their desolated estate, for all other citizens to look upon and learn from.  It was a harsh lesson. Jack and Rose were glad to get back to the Tardis, and no one was happier than the Doctor.

Three out of six console stations were manned now, Jack and Rose confident in their growing bond with the Tardis.   The Doctor could feel them more clearly in his mind with every passing hour. He remembered the trauma of losing Jamie and Zoe; the Time Lords and their repressive decrees were gone, but every day held threats for those who traveled with him.  Would this new bond be a hidden strength — would it turn the tide on an otherwise fatal day?

On this day, at least, they were all alive, and in love, and thriving.  And the Doctor could only hope, and trust, despite everything, that love would be stronger than death.


End file.
